in•er•tianounPHYSICS - a property of matter by which it continues in its existing state of rest or uniform motion in a straight line, unless that state is changed by an external force.

The other day I woke up with artist woes. It was one of those days you wake up trying to rationalize why you've chosen a life of uncertainty. A life defined by rejection. And you are wholly unsuccessful.

You've forgotten all of the triumphs.You are not remembering the strokes of luck.You can't feel momentum. Only inertia.You grasp for the sensation of being on top of the world.You question your talent.You wonder if Coelho was on shrooms when he wrote the Alchemist.

You are only hyper aware of what is not happening.

You congratulate your friend of a friend who just bought her first house.You nod with polite agreement as the young woman you just met at a mutual friend's birthday dinner (who makes a comfortable six figures in the oil and gas sector) complains about the cost of living on the west coast. Yeah, no shit.

And you wonder... Is it too late to be a flight attendant? Probably not. You think, I would probably be a shark at real estate. You fantasize about what life would look like if you cut your losses now...

But I'm stuck. Stuck by this pull in my gut. Stuck by an unwillingness to quit. Stuck by the certainty that nothing other than this curse to be a living, breathing, thinking, stinking creative will ever fulfill me.

That was a few days ago. And if there was a happy ending, I would have already written it.